Maui approached. Soon he stood before the hole in which
Kuna lay hiding. Catching sight of the ugly monster within, Maui let
out a deafening yell, poised his magic spear, and with one sweep of
his mighty arm hurled it into the depths of Kuna's hiding-place. But
the dragon was sly and agile, notwithstanding his huge bulk, and
slipped out in time to save himself.

Even today you can see the long hole--puka o Maui--which the
demi-god's spear made through the lava beyond the cavern; sufficient
evidence of the Herculean strength with which the weapon was driven.
Small wonder Kuna so feared a meeting with this outraged son of the
goddess he had sought to drown.

Wasting no time, Kuna started down stream, with Maui in hot pursuit.
Often the dragon tried to conceal himself in some sheltered spot, or
evade his pursuer by hiding behind a rock, but Maui gave him no rest,
spearing him from one hole to another.

Diving into one of several deep pools in the river, Kuna hoped that at
last he was safely hidden. Maui was not to be thus easily fooled. He
could see the grotesque bulk of his enemy far below the surface of the
gloomy water. Kuna was cornered.

Calling upon Pele, goddess of the Volcano, to send him hot stones and
molten lava, Maui cast these into Kuna's retreat until the waters
boiled furiously, sending a vast column of steam far above the rim of
the gorge.

Known today as the Boiling Pots, although time has cooled their
waters, they still bubble and surge as vigorously as ever, especially
when the heavy rains come and remind them of the time when Kuna the
Dragon sought refuge within their depths.

Tough as the hide of Kuna was, it could not save him from the terrific
heat generated by the red-hot rocks and lava cast into the pool by
Maui. Nearly exhausted, the monster managed to drag himself from the
cauldron and, shrieking horribly, he again took up his flight down
stream. Maui sent torrents of boiling water after him, scalding at
last the life from his ugly body.

Then Maui rolled the huge carcass down the river to a point below
Rainbow Falls, within sight of his mother's home, where she could view
daily the evidence that none might threaten her and live. And there
the ungainly form lies today--a long, black-rock island known as Moo
Kuna, between the rapids--where every freshet, every heavy rain, beats
upon it as though in everlasting punishment for plotting the death of
Hawaii's beloved goddess, Hina.

T